


We Were Set Apart

by dolly_dagger87



Category: Band of Brothers
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-13
Updated: 2016-05-13
Packaged: 2018-06-08 04:49:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,477
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6839752
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dolly_dagger87/pseuds/dolly_dagger87
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Charles Grant didn’t mind wearing his soulmates marks on his skin, he just wished he knew who was responsible for the artwork.</p>
            </blockquote>





	We Were Set Apart

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Gilove2dance](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gilove2dance/gifts).



> This fic was written as a Birthday present to my dear friend and beta, gilove2dance. She was kind enough to edit her own gift to I could share it with all of you.

****

**One**

It tickles. It feels like a marker was beginning to trace along the outside Charles Grant’s hand, leaving stray purple marks along the sides of his fingers and around the tips.

And that was how it began, with a tickle and it progressed from there, an accident from most likely tracing the outline of hand. But that wasn’t where it stopped. From there it grew to tracing bands around fingers, shapes, and finally the first tentative steps of an original artwork. 

Everyone received marks from their soul mate. Sometimes as the casual things - grocery lists, phone numbers, or stamps. Never direct messages though, you couldn’t write notes to your soulmates. Nothing like “Hi my name is Chuck and I live in Los Angeles and here’s my phone number.” That wouldn’t work, but you could go to a club with your friends get stamped at the door, that worked. That’s how Grant’s parents had met. His mom had gone out with her friends and his dad just happened to recognize the stamp. So it seemed like there needed to be an element of chance or it wouldn’t work. 

But a tree growing out of the inside of his elbow with birds flying overhead by his wrist, that worked. And even though there seemed to be conscious effort to remove the artwork every night, it would start back up the next day. And it was always the best part of Charles Grant’s day. 

****

**Two**

Grant was not in the habit of showing everyone he met the artwork that flowed out onto his skin. He didn’t like sharing it to be honest, it felt like it was something for him. And if he shared it with someone, it was personal.

The problem was that sometimes things just started appearing. Mostly they would show up in the morning before school or after because it was clear that this artwork took time. So maybe while waiting for the bus, boredom set in and artwork bloomed onto Grant’s skin. But then sometimes during the day random projects would be started. Probably in the back of a classroom, while the teacher’s back was turned. Unlike the other drawings that seemed to flow, these projects were broken up, starting and stopping in a broken choppy fashion. 

So not every piece was something he got to protect. There had been a memorable afternoon in third grade when Grant’s mother had been forced to collect him from school. Someone had seen fit to tease Grant about the snowflakes that appeared on his arm. So his Christmas break started three days earlier than his classmates. His mother had tried to scold him about but you could tell her heart wasn’t in it and his father had just informed him he was to help his mother around the house. 

By the time Grant started middle school, he was used to the sensation of his soul mate’s boredom so he stopped paying attention to every stroke. Because unlike some people, he had to pay attention in class if he wanted good grades. It was just part of his day. 

But just because somewhere along the line Grant had gotten used to it by now didn’t mean everyone else had. 

“Woah, dude.” Tab leaned across the table to grab Grant’s wrist and turned it over. 

It had barely started but Grant could already tell it was going to be a feather. He even would have guessed that if he hadn’t been allowed to look. His soulmate was in a feather phase. It wasn’t the first time this had happened. At one point it had been birds, and poppies before that. None of them had made him quite as jealous as the time his soulmate started drawing the features of a woman’s face. He had considered just writing stop over the top of the whole thing but he knew that wouldn’t make it through. So he just pulled his sleeves down and tried not to think about it. 

“That is so cool,” Tab whispered. 

“Yeah, it is,” Grant agreed as he watched the feather turned toward the outside of his forearm. 

****

**Three**

“That is a horrible way to pick a college,” Grant said, crossing his arms over his chest to protect them from Tab and the sharpie he was banishing.

“Yeah well, so is picking the closest to your parents,” Tab retorted, leaning forward with the sharpie. “It’s the best business school in the country.” 

“Don’t act like you are going there for that. You just want to chase girls. Besides, it’s not going to go through,” Chuck reasoned. 

“That’s why I’m doing it, so if it doesn’t, it’s fate.” Tab was far too excited about this. 

“It’s not fate. He’s right handed so whichever one you write on my left arm is going to win.” Grant rolled his eyes. 

“So you’ll have no problem with me writing UCLA on your left arm,” Tab said almost smugly. 

Which was weird because Tab had wanted to Berkeley since they had taken a campus visit there. Grant, on the other hand, didn’t see the point in moving to the other end of the state. 

Grant sighed, holding out his arms. “I can’t believe I’m agreeing to this.” 

Tab smiled before leaning forward and writing UCLA on Grant’s left arm and BERKELEY on his right. 

“Your handwriting is God awful. My soulmate is going to think he’s fated to end up with a serial killer.” 

“Shut up. Yours isn’t any better,” Tab said as he tossed the sharpie back onto Grant’s desk. “Army of Two?” 

“You just want to play on the same team right now,” Grant said, reaching for his X-Box controller. 

“I know better then to get in your crosshairs when you're in a mood,” Tab said as he looked around for the disk. 

They were walking down a hallway when he felt the tickle on the inside of his arm and since it was the inside of his right arm, it surprised him at first, making him rub his arm against his side. 

“Son of bitch,” he muttered. 

And because Tab was apparently a mind reader, he grabbed Grant’s right arm and turned it to reveal the flower taking shape over the K in Berkeley. Tab pumped his fist and made a celebratory noise. 

“I hate you both,” Grant muttered as his fingers traced over a newly formed leaf. 

****

**Four**

Grant should be studying or maybe editing his term paper. Something other than sitting in front of the TV in this dorm room. He wasn’t really watching it, it would hold his attention for only few moments before his eyes would drift back to his arms. HIs bare arms. For as long as Grant could remember, he’d worn art work on his skin. His arms were never empty, especially his left. But it had been three months since the matching floral cuffs had faded from his wrists.

He always knew he was special, most people did not receive regular marks from their soul mate. Over the years, Tab had only received a few hastily scrawled notes about volleyball practice and a few random reminders of appointments. Never enough to follow up on. So he knew he was lucky, but that didn’t change the fact that he had come to expect it and now that it was gone he missed it. And it worried him, not that his soul mate had died or something like that. No, Grant was worried something even more tragic had happened. Grant was worried that the forces that had always tried to wash off the artwork or failed to provide adequate paper had finally gotten their way. 

“You know it is a beautiful, magical Berkeley day out there and you are holed up in here,” Tab said as he entered their dorm room. 

Grant jumped a little. He hadn’t even heard Tab’s key in the lock. “I suppose you have a master plan.” 

“As it just so happens, I do. Want to go to In and Out?” 

And sure Grant would like to go out for burgers, but Tab looked guilty as fuck. “What’s her name?” 

“Carolyn,” Tab said, unapologetic. “And before you start I don’t know if she is my soulmate but she played volleyball in highschool so let's test this. Get some burgers and then meet her and her friends at the beach.” Tab picked up a black marker and held it out to Grant. 

Grant took the marker in one hand and Tab’s hand in the other. “You’re lucky I’m such a nice guy,” Grant said around the lid of the marker in his mouth. “Joe would draw a dick.” 

“He’s just pissed he got writer boy for a soulmate,” Tab said as he watched Grant write. Tab always made Grant write something random on his hand before he went out. In hopes it would get through since it technically wasn’t Tab who was trying to game the system. Grant liked to believe in a universe that accepted those types of technicalities. 

_4/19 11:45_

“What’s that,” Tab asked. 

“My eye appointment,” Grant said, putting the lid back on the marker. He always tried to keep the messages vague so as to cause a reaction in Tab’s actual soulmate, provided she wasn’t the girl he was trying to pick up. 

“If I meet my soulmate it will be because you are paranoid that you’ll need glasses someday,” Tab said, shaking his head. 

“I’m still holding the marker. It’s not too late to draw a dick,” Grant said, glancing at his still bare arm. 

Tab smiled. “Maybe he took up watercolours, or pastels or something? Or here’s a crazy thought. Maybe he finally bought a sketchbook.”

Grant snorted with laughter. 

“Or maybe it’s just end of the year shit,” Tab said as he headed to the door. 

“You mean that stuff we should be doing?” Gran asked as he grabbed his wallet and keys. 

“If I meet the future Mrs. Talbert tonight, it will all be worth it,” Tab replied. 

Carolyn wasn’t Tab’s soulmate, but Tab remained undaunted. And Grant’s mood improved when a simple line drawing began to appear on his arm. 

So maybe his soulmate had just taken up water colors.

****

**Five**

“That is a wicked snake,” Tab said when walked into their apartment, to find Grant sitting at the kitchen table.

Grant smiled, the snake in question’s tail started just at his wrist and went all the way up to the inside of his elbow before it coiled back over itself so it’s head was in the middle of Grant’s forearm. The snake had gotten more detailed over the course of the day and at one point it had been embellished with some flowers. 

“Didn’t hurt that he turned up during my job interview,” Grant said. Grant had decided to apply for a job a local art supply store. He figured he’d kill two birds with one stone, he’d learn something about art and how to run a small business. And as he was explaining this to Gloria his new boss, his soulmate had gotten bored. Needless to say, she had found the whole thing so romantic and she couldn’t wait until he met his soulmate in her store. 

Tab laughed. “That is priceless, but that isn’t your soulmates handwriting.” 

Grant turned the back of his other hand so he could look at it. “No, that would be yours. She invited us out to a thing.” 

Tab had finally met Arlene when she turned up at his study group, after having taken an eight hour train from LA. Understandably, Tab had skipped his study group. It was only fair she’d come all that way. And since Tab was charming, she’d transferred the following year and now she lived with them unless her parents asked. Then she lived in the dorms. 

“And you had her write it on your hand,” Tab smiled. “Clever boy.” 

They had discovered though Arlene that they did live in a universe of technicalities. She’d carried a notebook in her purse for every time Grant had written something on Tab’s hand. 

“Yeah,” Grant said, “maybe I’ll meet my soulmate because yours is a social butterfly.” 

He didn’t that night, but Gloria was right. Maybe he was destined to meet him in her store. 

 

****

**Six**

Grant stamped the rain off his shoes on the mat. He was exhausted and his day was just getting started. He’d spent the whole day in class and now he had to go close with Gloria. The only reason he had this time to get coffee was because he was getting it for Gloria too. It was the week before projects were due in the art classes, and they were staying open late in an effort to help the students. You’ve never seen a more grateful soul then the student that shows up at eleven looking for paint. So he was standing there about ready to cry he was so tired. When he felt the tickle on his arm. He pulled up the sleeve of his hoodie to see what was being added. It wasn’t the first time that it had done that today. It had started out with trees framing his arm, two on each side. It had sat that way until lunch when a small wolf or maybe a fawn was added in the center of Grant’s wrist. Now, judging by the look of things, it was clearly a wolf because a face of a wolf was beginning to take shape above the tree line. That’s how it often went. His soul mate would draw something and then add to it over the course of the day - stopping and starting as real life permitted. He smiled and pulled his sleeve down as it was his turn to order coffee.

He had just turned around holding the coffee carrier in his hand and for some reason he couldn’t explain, his eyes were drawn to the booth on the side of the coffee shop. Sitting there with his backpack on the table and paper coffee cup now adorned with roses, was his soulmate, hunched over his arm, drawing. It was a little ridiculous that for twenty years Grant had never planed this moment out. It was bound to happen at some point, so he probably should have planned out an introduction of some kind. Grant took a deep breath because Tab and Joe would give him so much shit if they found out he just froze in the middle of the coffee shop. So he rolled his sleeve back up and walked back over to the table. His soulmate didn’t look up as he walked towards him. He ran his fingers through his auburn hair, wrecking the casual way that it was combed across his forehead. Grant rested his closed fist against the table. He watched as blue eyes scanned their way up his arm. 

“Hi,” he said when their eyes met. 

“Hi,” his soulmate whispered as his ink stained fingers traced over his art on Grant’s skin. 

****

**Seven**

“It used to tickle when you’d draw on me,” Grant said, watching Chris draw on the table in their kitchen. It’s maybe the first time they’ve talked about it, what it felt like to be a vicarious canvas. It had just seemed like it already covered ground in the effort to get to know the person. And after a month, it just seem unimportant, but Grant found himself missing that feeling of artwork unfolding on his skin.

“Well technically, I thought I was drawing on me. I wasn’t sure if it was getting through since I was pretty deliberately marking myself,” Chris said, looking up from his drawing of a body of water at sunset with a tree branch in the foreground. “I remain a little embarrassed that you saw all that.” 

“It all looked good to me,” Grant said with a shrug. “So you thought the whole time it wasn’t coming though?” 

Chris raked his teeth over his bottom lip. “I hoped. After getting over the initial embarrassment, I really hoped when colleges appeared on my arm. I had to find a classmate to draw those flowers.”

“It was rigged,” Grant admitted. “Tab put Berkeley on my left arm so you’d probably end up drawing over UCLA. He even said that if you choose Berkeley, it would be fate.” 

Chris smiled. “Or the college closest to my house.” 

“Or that.” Grant found himself smiling too as he leaned against the counter. 

“You can’t tell anyone this,” Chris said as he got up and walked towards Grant. “And I mean it. Not even Tab.” 

Grant nodded his understanding. 

“Because this is maybe the most embarrassing part, outside of all the flowers…” 

“No one mocked the flowers,” Grant replied. 

Chris smiled. “Because you’d have kicked their ass.” 

“Absolutely, you can ask my mom about it,” Grant said, remembering that afternoon in third grade somewhat fondly. 

Chris smiled again. “So outside of the flowers, I used to catch a bus over to Berkeley after I got out of my classes and pick a random place in or around campus and just wait. And it was a horrible plan, because I didn’t know what you looked like or if you ended up at Berkeley at first, but I hoped you did.” 

“That’s kinda romantic,” Grant said. 

“And now you’re mocking me.” Chris blushed turning away from Grant. 

“Not mocking,” Grant said. “It’s just nice to hear that I’m not the only one that does somewhat stupid shit to try and find their soulmate. I went to Berkeley because you drew flowers on my arm.” 

“But you liked those flowers,” Chris said, taking a small half step towards Grant. 

“I liked those flowers a lot,” Grant said, leaning the the rest of the way towards Chris to pull him in for a kiss. Anytime Grant kissed Chris, without fail Chris would just pull him in and hang on. He’d wrap his arms around Grant’s neck, no matter where they were or how many people were watching. It was nice to have someone that didn’t try to pull away when you kissed them. There was also this spot just behind his ear that drove him a little crazy. 

“You are seducing me into kitchen sex,” Chris whispered against Grant’s lips. 

“Aww, why not?” Grant said playfully, tugging on one of the belt loops of Chris’ faded jeans. 

“Because knowing my luck, Tab would choose that moment to come home,” Chris replied. 

“So it’s not a no to kitchen sex in general,” Grant said, taking Chris’s wrist in hand and leading him back towards his room. “But just no to kitchen while Tab’s here? Because if Tab knew he was standing between me and good sex…” 

“You’re going to tell him what? Scram for a while so Chris and I can fuck in the kitchen?” Chris asked as he kicked the door closed. 

“Sure, dude,” Grant said as he sat down on the bed. 

“Oh my god,” Chris said shaking his head. “Don’t do that, I honestly don’t think that I could look Tab in the eye if you did that.” 

“I won’t,” Grant conceded as he wrapped his hands around Chris’ hips and pulled him forward. “Just wanted to point out that Tab can be strangely helpful sometimes.” 

Chris laughed, his hands coming up to cup Grant’s cheeks before he leaned in and kissed him. Grant slipped his hand to the back of Chris’ thigh and pulled him in closer. Chris braced his knee on the end of the bed, to keep from falling into Grant, but Grant had other plans. He leaned back against his bed pulling Chris with him. Chris braced his hands above Grant’s head, allowing himself leverage to kiss him. 

Grant had just started to work on getting Chris’ fly open when they heard the crash of the apartment door open, followed by Arlene’s breathy giggle and then the slam of a door that Grant assumed was Tab’s bedroom door. 

Chris leaned forward to smother his laughter into Grant’s neck. “And that’s why I’m against kitchen sex.” 

“They wouldn’t have noticed we were there,” Grant countered as he snaked his hands under Chris’ shirt. Chris seemed to take the hint and pulled back to get the shirt off over his head. He tossed it over his shoulder and it landed on Grant’s bedroom floor. He brought his hands up to cup Chris’ cheek, his other hand resting on Chris’ neck and his fingers playing with Chris’ hair. As they made out, tongues sliding against each other, Chris started to roll his hips back into Grant’s crotch. 

“Fuck,” Grant hissed against Chris’ lips.

He could feeling Chris’ smirk against his lips before he rolled his hips back again, dragging his ass over Grant’s croch. 

“I like this plan,” Grant said, his hands coming up to rest on Chris’ hips. 

“Do you now?” Chris asked. 

Grant slid his hands along Chris’ stomach and up his sides, enjoying the feeling of warm smooth skin. He watched as Chris dragged his teeth over his bottom lip. “Like looking at you.” 

“Stop,” Chris said, shifting with embarrassment, but since he was still in Grant’s lap, all the action did was cause Grant to moan. Grant smiled up at Chris before he moved his hand to the back of Chris’ neck, stroking his thumb over Chris hairline. 

“Stop what?” Grant asked, but he already knew the answer, knew what he was doing that made Chris uncomfortable. Positive comments about Chris’ appearance always made Chris uncomfortable.

Chris ducked his head, pink creeping into his cheeks. “You know what,” Chris whispered.  
Grant ran his fingers up into Chris’ hair causing Chris’ eyes to flutter shut. 

“I’m going to keep doing it anyway,” Grand replied. “So get used to it.” Grant moved his hands then to Chris’ ass and and used the leverage to drag Chris closer. He ran his hands over Chris jean covered thighs before he gripped them tight. “Gonna keep saying it until you believe it.” 

Chris smiled but he was still having a hard time meeting Grant’s eyes. “Are we going to fool around or are you just going to stare at me?” Chris seemed to find his nerve because he made eye contact again. 

Grant bit his lip before he rolled his hips up into Chris’. 

“Why can’t we do both?” Grant asked before he leaned up to kiss him. Grant could feel Chris’ smile as his lips parted. Grant’s breath hitched when he felt Chris’ hands under his t-shirt. As they kissed, Grant felt Chris moving against his crotch. After a particularly sharp roll of Chris’ hips, Grant broke the kiss and started trailing kisses down Chris’ neck, his arms wrapping around Chris’ waist. As Chris rocked, he began gathering the fabric of Grant’s shirt in his hands. 

“Lube,” Chris gasped as they rocked into each other. 

“Sure,” Grant replied. 

“You’re going to have to let me go if I’m going to reach it,” Chris said. 

Grant sighed as he removed his hands, Chris climbed off of Grant to reach over to their night stand. Grant took this opportunity to shuck his shirt and jeans. Chris tossed the lube on the bed beside Grant before taking off his pants. 

“Come here you,” Grant said, reaching out for Chris and pulling him close and sliding his hand down inside his boxers before pulling them completely off. Grant leaned back to wiggle his way out of his own boxers. Chris climbed back into the bed and straddled Grant’s lap, his legs braced tight against Grant’s thighs and his arms slung around Grant’s neck. Chris rock his hips grinding his ass down onto Grant’s dick, causing Grant to moan. Grant grabbed Chris’ ass pulling him forward to repeat the motion, Chris burying his face in Grant’s neck as they moved. 

“Still want to do it like this?” Grant asked and felt Chris’ answering nod against his neck. Grant ran a hand though Chris’ hair in acknowledgement. Grant grabbed the lube, clicked the cap open and coated one of his fingers in lube. “Lift up a little bit,” Grant requested. Chris sighed into Grant’s neck as Gran’t finger slowly entered him. Grant worked a second finger into Chris, and Chris raked his teeth over Grant’s shoulder. As Grant crooked his fingers, Chris whined into Grant’s neck. “Good?” Grant teased before pressing his fingers more firmly into Chris’ prostate. 

“So good,” Chris whispered before he rubbed his dick against Grant’s stomach. Grant slowly added a third finger, Chris stilled for a moment and Grant followed his lead until he felt Chris grind down into his fingers. As the grinding became more eager, Grant slipped his fingers out before grabbing the lube again and slicking up his own dick. After he was finished, Chris took over lining up Grant’s dick and sinking down onto Grant’s lap. When Grant was fully inside him, Chris paused, biting his lip. Grant watched as Chris adjusted, he brought his hands up to hold Chris’ waist. 

When Chris opened his eyes, Grant asked, “Ready?” Chris nodded and Grant rubbed his thumbs over Chris’ hipbones. Chris used his grip on Grant’s thighs to raise himself up before he rocked back down. Chris set a rhythm of slowly lifting up and then grinding back down into Grant’s lap. He kept his eyes on Grant the whole time, blue eyes locked onto the green, biting his lip to hold back his groans. 

“You feel so good,” Grant murmured, the praise causing Chris to pick up his speed. Grant could tell that Chris was starting to get desperate; his breaths were sharp and his lips were parted and shining with spit. “So fucking good,” Grant repeated, holding Chris’ waist tighter. Chris moaned, his dick leaking against his stomach. “Come on. Want to see you come, you look so hot when you come.” Chris whimpered.

“Chuck,” Chris cried out when he bottomed, signaling that Grant had once again found Chris’ prostate. “Fuck, so close.” 

“Fuck,” Grant echoed, thrusting up into Chris. 

“Chuck,” Chris practically screamed as he came. 

Grant watched as he thrust his hips up into Chris and swore as he came. Moaning Chris’ name, he clenched his fingers tighter on Chris’ hips. 

Chris leaned forward again into Grant’s neck, breathing against Grant’s skin. 

“Fuck,” Grant breathed out. “You’re so hot.” 

Chris blushed as he traced his fingers over the flowers that Grant had tattooed just above his elbows. It was roses, roses that Chris had drawn. “You think so?” 

“I know so,” Grant replied, pulling Chris in for a kiss. 

“I love you,” Chris said, leaning his head against Grant’s.

“I love you too,” Grant replied as he linked his fingers with Chris’.

Gran loved him now and he knew he always would.


End file.
